


Coming to a Head

by Llama1412



Series: Chronic Pain [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Chronic Pain, Drug Use, Gen, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23576092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: During a confrontation gone wrong, Jaskier gets hit with a spell that is supposed to cause unimaginable pain. So why does Jaskier seems mostly unaffected?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Chronic Pain [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667773
Comments: 33
Kudos: 554





	Coming to a Head

**Author's Note:**

> Weed isn't working for my pain tonight and I can't sleep, so I finally wrote this! In which I project onto Jaskier.  
> I couldn't think of the title, but my last chronic pain piece was called At Her Back about back pain, so I figure a head pun will do.

When the sorceress cast the spell, Geralt thought at first that they had all escaped unscathed. He and Yennefer had confronted the sorceress, while Jaskier stayed behind with Roach. But the sharp gasp he recognized as the bard’s meant he hadn’t been far enough away.

Yennefer rounded on the sorceress, demanding to know what the spell had been. Geralt went immediately to Jaskier’s side. He seemed surprisingly all right – swaying a bit on his feet like he was shaking off a physical blow, but other than the tension Geralt could see in his shoulders and neck, he seemed unchanged.

“Jaskier?” His hand hovered over Jaskier’s shoulder, uncertain if he should touch. Jaskier swayed forward into him with a grunt.

“‘m okay, just got a bit dizzy. What was that supposed to do?”

The sorceress who’d cast the spell seemed dumbstruck. “But – you should be writhing and screaming on the floor! That spell causes unimaginable pain in any it touches!”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “You sure? I mean, yeah, my head hurts a bit more, but nothing unusual. I think maybe your spell is broken.”

Yennefer frowned at him. “That’s not how magic works. Are you sure you’re – ?” She seemed to realize she was asking after the wellbeing of her self-proclaimed enemy. Geralt honestly did not understand the relationships between Yennefer and Jaskier. They could go from savage insults one moment to the sugariest affection the next, and which one they chose usually seemed to be based on what would cause the most trouble for Geralt.

“Yeah,” Jaskier made no effort to remove himself from where Geralt was supporting all of his weight. “I mean, I’d like to go smoke if we’re all done here, but otherwise, yeah, ‘m okay.”

Yennefer scowled at him. “You smoke too much.” 

It was true, Jaskier smoked nearly constantly. It was one of the first things Geralt learned about him after the elves let them go. Well, he’d had a clue after his first whiff of the man – sour sweat, remnants of rotten vegetables, and very distinctly, cannabis smoke. 

So it wasn’t that surprising when the moment Jaskier finished singing his first rendition of  _ Toss a Coin _ on that first quest, he pulled out a joint and lit up. After a long drag, he’d offered it to Geralt and then had suddenly seemed to recall that he’d attached himself to a Witcher. “Oh shit, you have enhanced senses, don’t you? Is this awful? I can put it out, I’m so sorry.”

Geralt had cut off what he had already then begun to recognize as the sign of an oncoming ramble. “My senses are sharper, yes. But don’t worry about it – I don’t really mind.”

Jaskier had narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Okay, I’ve known you a day, but I can already tell you’re the type who won’t speak up if something is bothering you. So is that a real ‘you don’t mind’, or is that a polite ‘you think you have to’ thing?”

Geralt smiled at the memory. The smell truly didn’t bother him much, and after all these years traveling together, he didn’t even notice it.

Yennefer certainly did. She made a point to complain about the smell constantly, but given that she usually accepted whenever Jaskier offered to share, Geralt was fairly certain she was just being difficult.

Jaskier stuck his tongue out at Yennefer. “And this is precisely why! It’s the best shit for pain out there!” 

The sorceress, clearly hoping they’d forgotten about her during their discussion, tried to edge away from them, but Yennefer said something in Elder and rope wrapped itself around her. “You, be quite. I’ll deal with you later.” Yennefer cut her gaze back to Jaskier. “What is that supposed to mean, that’s why?”

Geralt and Jaskier blinked at each other, before turning to her. “Ah, guess I forgot to ever mention?” Jaskier rubbed the back of his head bashfully. “I have chronic migraines. All day every day. It’s super fun.”

“Oh,” Yennefer said. As Jaskier answered her questions, Geralt started herding the two of them back towards Roach and their camp. He’d traveled with Jaskier for many years now, and they had a routine down pat for when Jaskier’s migraines became too much while on the road. Jaskier made a beeline for his bag and loaded his pipe, and Geralt got a fire going and began to heat the small custom waterskin they’d acquired. When hot water was poured into it, it functioned like a heat pad, and it was small enough that it could lie precisely over his eyes. 

The pain centered in Jaskier’s eyes, he’d learned long ago. There were days where he simply couldn’t stand the sunlight at all and had either stay inside or don a blindfold to block it out. They never traveled on the bad pain days – Geralt justified spending less time on the path by reassuring himself that it was right to prioritize Jaskier’s health and wellbeing. He wasn’t always the best at that, but he tried. It helped that he’d known Jaskier so long – Geralt knew all the little tips and tricks that Jaskier used day to day to minimize the pain he lived with. It meant that at times like this, Jaskier could focus on getting the chemical pain relief into his system as quickly as possible while Geralt prepared the other things he needed to make himself comfortable for a bad day.

Yennefer watched them move seamlessly around each other with a look of consideration on her face and deposited the tied up sorceress next to Roach. She watched as Geralt set up their bedrolls and Jaskier flung himself down, narrowly avoiding hitting Geralt with his pipe.

Geralt growled at him, and dropped the waterskin on his face. Jaskier squawked dramatically, but it was too quiet for the bard they knew. He got like this on bad pain days, Geralt knew, but it always unnerved him. Jaskier was literally always making noise. At first, it had grated on Geralt, but over time, he’d come to find the world too quite without Jaskier’s background noises.

Geralt settled against the log he’d put their bedrolls under, so that his back was supported by the tree and his legs sprawled across their bedding. Jaskier adjusted the heat pad on his face, tied it in place with one of his blindfolds, and lay down so his head was lined up with Geralt’s thigh. He nuzzled his face into the outside of Geralt’s hip and wrapped his arms around his leg to cuddle it against his chest. Geralt’s hand came down to brush through Jaskier’s hair, and the bard’s shoulders slowly began to relax. 

Every once in a while, Jaskier would twist around to take a draw from his pipe, but then he’d bury his head back between Geralt’s hip and their bedding, where all the light was blocked out and the pressure of the heat pad against his eyes was soothing.

They’d found this position after years of experimenting. There was no way to estimate how long Jaskier would be out of commission on a bad day, and he got restless if he wasn’t able to fall asleep immediately. Geralt, on the other hand, had a great deal of experience with remaining quiet and unmoving for hours. Every time Jaskier fidgeted, it dragged him out of meditation, and after the eighth instance in a row, he started to lose his temper.

This position, however, gave them both freedom to move without bothering the other overly much, though Geralt wished he could negotiate the leg cuddling. The insides of his legs were surprisingly ticklish, and Jaskier’s hands twitched in his sleep. It wasn’t the best combination for Geralt.

Once they were settled, Geralt looked up at Yennefer. She looked unusually lost, standing in the middle of their camp with nothing to do. Geralt beckoned her over with a tilt of his head. “He likes sound when he’s resting,” Geralt said quietly. “He’d probably love if if you sang or hummed something. I’m pretty awful at it.”

Jaskier grumbled a vague disagreement at that, but he did shoot a quick smile to Yennefer. It probably would have looked more charming without the waterskin tied over his eyes, but Geralt could see Yenn soften nonetheless. “Only if you wanted to,” Jaskier said.

Yennefer hummed consideringly as she dropped down to sit on the other side of Jaskier on their bedrolls. “I still think you smoke too much,” she teased, “but I know a couple of Aedirnian drinking songs. Somehow I think that’s not what you’re thinking of, though.”

Geralt snorted. “Maybe something calmer. The goal is for him to either relax enough to get the pain to go away, or for him to just sleep it off.” He smiled wryly at Yennefer. “This idiot is why I know a ridiculous number of lullabies from around the Continent.”

Yenn laughed, which was always a gratifying sound to evoke. “Let’s see if I can remember any from when I was young.” She thought for a moment and then began humming softly. 

Geralt closed his eyes and let her voice accompany him into meditation with a smile on his face. 


End file.
